Lost Friends
by DoctorWhovian11
Summary: John Watson had always wondered if Sherlock had any other friends besides him, and he finally finds out one day when Mycroft pays a visit. He doesn't expect he would ever meet this mysterious old friend of Sherlock's, until he does. No slash, nothing like that, just fluff and sadness at points. I put the genre as drama because I don't know what else to put it as.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A Boring Day at 221B Baker Street

A somewhat melancholy tune, which suited the rainy weather, rang out from the violin as Sherlock Holmes stood playing it in front of the window. His friend and flat mate, John Watson, sat nearby reading.

Sherlock was bored out of his mind. No new cases in three weeks, and no new clients for two. To bide his time that day, the one day he couldn't even go outside, he played his violin, but to no satisfaction. He had been playing for two straight hours. Suddenly, he stopped playing. John looked up.

"Sherlock?" He asked.

"Mycroft," Sherlock said, whipping around so fast he knocked a glass off the nearby table.

Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock's older brother, stood in the ever-open doorway of the apartment at 221B Baker Street, in suit and tie, holding a soaking wet umbrella.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, annoyance clear in his voice.

"Hello, Sherlock. Hello, John," Mycroft said in reply.

"Hi, Mycroft. You can put your umbrella down outside the door," John said.

Mycroft put his umbrella down at the same time Sherlock put his violin down. Mycroft walked in and sat down, and Sherlock slumped on the coach. John stood up.

"Would you like some tea, Mycroft?" He asked.

"Yes, please. Two sugars."

"Sherlock?"

"None for me," Sherlock said. He then stood up and followed John into the kitchen.

"I bet you've already figured out why your brothers here, then?" John said, putting a pot on the stove.

"No, not yet. But I can tell he's been to mum's," Sherlock said quietly, so Mycroft wouldn't hear.

"How can you tell?"

"He smells like her perfume, which she makes herself. He has a coffee stain on his trousers from when mum would have spilled it, due to her arthritis making her shake. He has cat fur all over him, from mum's two cats," Sherlock explained.

"Why specifically coffee?"

"Mum loves coffee."

They went back into the parlor, Sherlock sitting back down on the coach and John handing Mycroft his tea, then sitting himself.

"So, what are you doing here? And why have you been to mum's?" Sherlock interrogated Mycroft.

"I've come to remind you that today is Mum's birthday. You always forget," Mycroft said coolly, taking a sip of his tea.

"Damn!" Sherlock shouted. He grabbed his coat and scarf and darted out the door, leaving the room awkwardly quiet. Mycroft sat, drinking his tea.

"Well," He finally said, "I have a lot of free time for once, and nothing to do. If you have any questions about Sherlock, go ahead and ask. I doubt he tells you anything about his childhood."

John looked at Mycroft, surprised. But, actually, he did have questions. A lot of them. John had wondered what Sherlock's childhood had been like since the day he had met him. But there was one question that John really wanted to know the answer to, and whenever he thought of it, it bugged him.

"Has Sherlock ever had any friends? Well, besides me, of course."

"Actually, yes. In primary and secondary school he was very good friends with a girl named Kyra. They were so close, people would mistake them for siblings, sometimes. Poor girl had asperger's syndrome, and got teased for it. Sherlock stood up for her, and got teased too. Too bad the girl moved to Ireland for University."

After an hour or so of chatting, Mycroft left. John just sat there for awhile, thinking about everything he had learned, especially about this Kyra girl. He wanted to know what had become of her. Still wondering about this, John got up to go to the shop. They needed some food in the house.

0LF0

At the shop, John went through the tedious task of finding what they needed and avoiding annoying people. The cabinets and refrigerator where completely empty, save for some tea and a container of fingers Sherlock was using for one of his 'experiments'.

_He better pay me back for this_, John thought, annoyed.

After finding everything, he headed for the register. But not the DIY one, those never worked for him. One with an actual person running it. Not paying attention, he ran into a girl, causing her to drop her basket.

"I'm sorry!" John said, going to help her pick up the cans that had rolled out from the basket.

"Oh, it's quite alright. It's nothing new, nothing new," She said.

John and the girl stood up. The girl was very pretty, with shiny blue eyes and loosely curled copper hair. She wore a simple, knee-length blue skirt, a shirt with two weird looking cartoon characters, leggings, airwalk trainers, and a button-up knit jumper.

"Thank you," She said, and hurried on her way. John wondered who she was, but quickly forgot about the moment once he got to the register.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I forgot to put a disclaimer on the last chapter, so here it is: I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK. The BBC does. This is for entertainment purposes only. Blah blah blah. No copyright infringement intended.**

**This is a flash back chapter, that's why it's in all italics.**

Chapter 2: Kyra's Necklace

_Sherlock stood by the school door waiting for everyone to leave. This was odd for a twelve-year-old boy to do. Most be would riding their bikes with their friends to an arcade or a park to play football. But Sherlock didn't have friends. He only had one._

_After all the other students had passed by, he headed for the main outdoor staircase. He went three-fourths of the way down, and sat next to the girl on the step._

"_Hi, Kyra," He said._

_The girl, Kyra, sniffed. "Hi," She said._

"_What's wrong? You're crying," Sherlock said._

"_Some eighth years took my necklace! The silver-colored locket you got for me, with our pictures in it!" Kyra cried. A few loose copper curls fell out of her ponytail and into her face. Sherlock pushed them behind her ear, knowing that she hated having hair in her eyes._

_For a moment they just sat there, clouds rolling overhead. Kyra stopped crying, but was still clearly upset. Sherlock was thinking. Why would eighth years want a locket? One must have a girl friend, then. But why steal one? Doesn't have any money, then. Or can't get money._

"_Kyra," Sherlock said, breaking the silence._

"_Yeah?" She said, looking up._

"_Do you know where they went?"_

"_Behind the gymnasium, I think."_

"_I'll be right back." Sherlock started going up the steps._

"_Okay, as long as we get to the sandwich shop for chips by four!" She called after him._

0LF0

_Sherlock walked behind the gymnasium, but hid behind a rubbish barrel. He needed to observe them, so he knew about them, and knew what to do. Three of them were there. One, a burly and tall one, was propped up against the wall, smoking a cigarette. Another, a short and pudgy, was sitting on a crate. The third, was sitting on the ground, falling asleep. All of their uniforms were misshapen, with untucked shirts, no belts, and untied ties. They all had long, messy hair. Obviously punks._

_After determining a few other things, Sherlock stepped out from behind the rubbish barrel, and approached the older boys. The burly one noticed him, so did the one on the crate. The burly boy kicked the sleeping one, who woke and stood up._

"_Hey, look at the skinny kid!" One said._

"_What the hell do you want?" The burly one said._

"_You stole my friends necklace," Sherlock said, showing no emotion._

"_Oh, you mean this?" The burly one pulled Kyra's necklace out of his pocket. "I'm givin' this to my girlfriend," He said._

"_It doesn't belong to you," Sherlock replied._

"_Yeah? Well, if you want it so bad, go and get it, skinny!" He threw the necklace into the field._

_Anger bubbled up inside Sherlock's chest. Kyra wanted that necklace. He had gotten that necklace for her. It was special to her. He was going to get it back!_

_Instead of punching them like most would do, he told them what he had deducted from the. The boys stood there, filling with anger and annoyance, tensing up. They looked embarrassed, and a bit shocked, but mostly anger._

_When he finished, Sherlock turned and headed towards the spot he had seen the locket fall. After walking a bit forward, he was hit in the, and fell to the ground._

0LF0

_Kyra had been sitting on the steps for a while, waiting for Sherlock to get back. It was 3:50, and if they didn't get to the bus stop within the next five minutes, they would miss the bus. Then they would have to wait fifteen minutes for the next one, and have no time for chips. Then she heard steps behind her, and turned around. It was Sherlock._

_Kyra stood up and picked up her bag. Sherlock stopped right next to her, and held out a necklace._

"_You got it back!" Kyra said, gleefully. "Thank you! But wait, why is your nose bleeding? And there's a cut on your cheek. Did you fight them?!"_

"_...Yes," Sherlock said, as Kyra pulled out some tissues out of her pocket. She gave him a tissue to stop his nose from bleeding, and started cleaning the cut on his face. When she had finished, they started to walk towards the bus stop._

"_We can get some plasters at the shop, for the cuts you got."_

**End Note: Yes, Sherlock is supposed to care for her, but like she's a sister or something like that. I'll try to post a chapter everyday until it's finished, but I might not be able to. Please review. This is my first fanfiction, so please don't be too hard on me. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: This is why it's K+. I like describing things like that. WARNING if you don't like anything having to do with blood, don't read. A dead(but fictional) person is involved. And yes, the story gets sad from here.**

Chapter 3: Reunion at a Murder Scene

John walked up the stairs to the apartment, lugging several bags full of groceries in each hand. Reaching the kitchen, he sighed. The table was covered in science equipment that Sherlock used for his experiments, whenever that was.

He placed the bags on the floor instead, and preceded to put everything away. He could here violin strings being plucked, signaling that Sherlock was home, but still bored. After he put everything away, John went and sat in the parlor.

"So how was your visit to your mum's?" He asked.

"Boring," Sherlock said.

"Of course it was," John sighed.

They sat there, Sherlock plucking his violin, John just sitting, until Sherlock's mobile rang. He put the violin on the coffee table.

"Finally!" He shouted, jumping up from the chair.

"What!?" John said, surprised at the sudden outburst.

Sherlock threw his mobile at John, who caught it, and then put on his coat and scarf. Sherlock had gotten a text from Lestrade. It read:

Murder in an alley next

to Eddy's Sandwich Shop.

Can you make it?

"Isn't that few streets from here? We could walk?" John said, handing back Sherlock's mobile and putting on his coat.

"Yes, I know that, John," Sherlock said. "I know every street in London, and every shop or building on those streets. I know what is within walking distance of Baker Street."

John rolled his eyes, and followed Sherlock out the door, going to solve the first interesting, most likely, case in weeks.

0LF0

A few minutes later, Sherlock and John were approaching the police tape surrounding the alley and shop. Sergeant Sally Donovan stood near a police car, talking to a girl.

"Sally," Sherlock said, loathing slightly evident in his voice.

"Oh, look, it's the Freak," Sally said, loathing clear in her voice, as Sherlock and John stepped onto the crime scene.

"Hi, Doctor Watson."

"Hi, Sally," John said.

"So, Lestrade invited you, did he?" She said, turning towards Sherlock.

"Why wouldn't he?" Sherlock said, rhetorically.

"Well, I might as well introduce you. This is the new techie." The girl near the police car stepped forward. "Mostly does work for Anderson, but she also does stuff with computers."

"Hey, you're the girl from the supermarket!" John said.

"Are you the guy who ran into me, and made me drop my stuff?" The girl asked.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Oh, it's fine. I'm Kyra," She said, holding out her hand.

"Kyra Barrymore?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes," Kyra said, looking at him. "Wait, Sherlock? I haven't seen you in years! Twelve, I believe, since we graduated. It's so nice to see you!"

Both John and Sally stood there in shock.

"So you're the girl that Mycroft told me about!" John said.

"Of course he would tell you that," Sherlock said, slightly aggravated.

"Wait, I'm lost," Sally said.

"Sherlock and I were friends in primary and secondary school," Kyra explained.

"I never thought I would hear 'Sherlock' and 'friends' positively in the same sentence."

0LF0

A fresh corpse sat in the alley way next to Eddy's Sandwich Shop, propped up against a gutter pipe. Blood dripped from the dead boy's head, from where his skull had cracked from being smashed into the wall. A stab wound on his arm had soaked the sleeve of his white Aeropostale jumper. His right calf and ankle were twisted in a horrific position. His left eye had been gouged out, and was no where to be found. John nor Kyra could look.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade shouted, walking towards the group. "Investigate the body, tell me about whatever you find. Sergeant Donovan, see if you can find the murder weapon, it may be here. Kyra, here's the boys mobile. Try to hack into it, and find out what you can," He ordered, and walked off.

Sherlock inspected the boy, gathering every detail he could. From his height and facial features, it was obvious that he couldn't be older than seventeen. He was a smoker, from the state of his teeth and slight burns between his middle and index fingers. He was a football player. Sherlock couldn't tell much else, as the boy was covered in blood and all his stuff had been stolen. He told Lestrade.

"But he didn't die of the head injury, the skull didn't hit the brain. He bled out," Sherlock said.

Lestrade sighed, stressed by the murder of a kid. "I would like to know his name."

"His name is Jonothan Carrol. He was a football player at his school, and was quite popular. He was heading to his girlfriends house, so they could go to a restaurant. Today is his sixteenth birthday," Kyra said in monotone. Her face was expressionless as she looked at Lestrade, but it was obvious that this upset her.

"My God," John said. "Who would kill a kid like that?"

"Sally, go call his parents. They... they should know about their kid," Lestrade said.

0LF0

"Hey, Sherlock! Wait!" Kyra called, running up to him. "Do you want to go get something to eat? I'm famished." All evidence of her being upset was gone, but Sherlock knew she had just pushed it down.

"I don't eat when I'm working on a case," He said.

"Oh. Well, um... John? Do you want something to eat?"

"Sure," said John.

"Sherlock, you can still come along."

"What restaurant did it say the boy was going to?"

"Uh, Olive Garden."

"Then let's go there," Sherlock said, walking ahead of them to get a taxi.

**End Note: Two chapters in one day. That's progress. I apologize for not being able to convey the characters really well, I'm new at this, but I'll work on it. I'm going to go too much into the murder investigation, and focus a bit on Kyra and Sherlock.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Sorry that this chapter sucks, but my imagination is kinda running dry on this, and I was switching between writing this and my math work. Also, here's another DISCLAIMER: I don't own Series of Unfortunate Events. You'll get it when you read the chapter.**

Chapter 4: Lemony Snicket

A day after the murder, Sherlock had almost solved the case. Kyra had been helping with the case, mostly deciphering the messages that they found.

Jonothan, the dead boy, had tripped and broken his leg and ankle; The killer had nothing to do with that. Jonothan had pulled himself up against the wall to sit. He was going to call 9-9-9, when the killer approached. He stabbed him in the arm, making him drop the mobile. He then smashed the boys head into the wall, knocking him unconscious. He then used the knife to gouge out Jonothan's eye, taking that, all his stuff except his mobile, and leaving him to bleed out.

The killer had left a cleverly hidden note at Olive Garden, but not so cleverly hidden that Sherlock couldn't find it. It was in a cypher, but Kyra deciphered it in a few minutes. It lead them to a warehouse, where Kyra had to hack into the security system. In a freezer in the back, they found the boys wallet and money, and another note, which was written backwards and upside-down, but Kyra could read it. This note lead them to an abandoned flat building, where they found Jonothan's watch, a basket of apples(Kyra stated that she loved apples), and another note. This one was written normally. It read:

_Dear Investigators,_

_You'll find my address with Lemony Snicket, The End, 46._

_if you small Kittens can't see the obvious, You'll find a new, Random body every hour, of todAy._

"Kyra," Sherlock said.

"Yes?"

"Why is your name in this?"

"What?" She said, grabbing the paper.

"In the second paragraph, the only letters capitalized are K, Y, R, and A."

Kyra stayed silent.

"Who's this 'Lemony Snicket' he mentions?" John asked.

"No ide-"

"An author. My favorite author," Kyra interrupted. "'The End' is the thirteenth book in the Series of Unfortunate Events series. Lemony Snicket is the author. ...I think I know who the killer is."

0LF0

Not even on hour later, fortunately, they arrived at the killers house. But first they stopped off at a library, and found the address in Lemony Snicket's book.

John kicked down the door before Sherlock could pick the look, much to his annoyance. The three walked in, John holding his gun, Kyra behind Sherlock. She had explained that killer must be her ex-boyfriend, who she broke up with because he was obsessive, which made her uncomfortable.

They walked into the basement, where they had heard footsteps coming from. A man stood in the middle of the bleak concrete room, wielding a gun.

"Hello, Kyra," he said in a malicious whisper.

"Liam," Kyra said.

"It's nice to see you again."

"You aren't even looking at me." At this, he turned around and stared right at her.

"Liam, put the gun down," John said, pointing his gun at Liam, who pointed his own at John at these words.

"Put yours down."

"Liam-" Kyra started.

"MAKE HIM PUT THE GUN DOWN!" John dropped the gun and raised his hands.

"Why did you kill the boy, Liam?" Sherlock asked, though he obviously already knew. He was just trying to calm him down. But Liam ignored him.

"Liam, why did you kill Jonothan?" Kyra insisted.

"Why did you dump me?!" He shouted.

"You were making me uncomfortable all the time!"

Liam's eyes grew in surprise, but quickly went back to normal. "Come here," He said. Kyra took a step, but was stopped by John.

"John, let her go," Sherlock said, and John did just that. Kyra walked forward.

"Explain to me how I was making you uncomfortable," Liam demanded.

"You were asking me so many questions, it was overwhelming. You kept trying to hold my hand, I wasn't ready for that. Worst of all, you were stalking me, following me places watch-"

A gunshot and two shouts of 'no' rang out into the cold night air.

**End Note: It sucks at the beginning, but gets better I guess. I'm never doing a chapter a day thing ever again. I've had a headache all day because of writing with my glasses on.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: LAST CHAPTER. I can't write anymore than this for this fanfiction. I will write more, some one-shots, maybe a few long ones, but I'm going to do one chapter when I finish writing/typing it instead of one a day. One chapter a day is too much work. Enjoy Sherlock actually showing emotion and feeling for some one.**

Chapter 5: Unwanted Tears

John grabbed his gun and shot the insane man, knowing he and Sherlock would both be shot if he didn't do something. The man crumpled to the ground, as John had unknowingly shot him in the head. He felt no remorse for the dead man. He let out a sigh of relief.

"Sherlock, we got hi- Sherlock?"

John looked at his friend, who was on his knees with his head hung in sadness. In front of him was Kyra, ghostly white, no expression on her face. Her eyes were glazed over, dark, empty. In the middle of her forehead was a perfectly round hole. Blood formed a puddle around her sprawled-out hair, staining the copper curls brown. John looked down and noticed splattered blood on his clothes, and bits of brain. The same for Sherlock. Kyra Barrymore, a young, shy beauty, was dead.

"My God..." John whispered.

Suddenly, there was a crash and pounding on the stairs. John looked to see Lestrade and Sergeant Donovan coming down. Lestrade stopped at the bottom, and scanned the scene. John looked at Lestrade, a sad expression on his face.

0LF0

Tears rolled down Sherlock Holmes's face, something that happened so infrequently it was alien to him. A new emotion filled his body like poison. Depression, they called it. He was mourning the loss of his childhood friend, who he hadn't seen in years. The girl who had freaked out whenever he got hurt. The girl who had helped him with his first case. The girl who was like a sister to him. The only person willing, who actually wanted to be his friend in school.

He didn't want it to be like this. Tears rolling down his face, his friend laying dead in front of him. It wasn't something he could take, but maybe he could fake it.

0LF0

"Sherlock..." John said.

Sherlock stood up. "I'm fine," he said, and began walking up the stairs, pushing past Lestrade.

"Are you-" Lestrade started.

"I'm fine," Sherlock said again, continuing to walk up the stairs.

"Freak, um, Sherlock-" Sally began.

"Why is everyone so concerned?!" He shouted. "I'm fine! People die, that's what they do!" Sherlock said, quoting his one true enemy. He walked out of the house. No one followed him.

After walking several blocks, Sherlock stopped. He pulled something out of his pocket.

The locket.

He had grabbed it when no one was looking. Why would anyone notice? He opened the silver, oval-shaped locket, and looked at the pictures within. School pictures. Sherlock's was on the left. The ten-year-old in the picture looked very serious. Kyra, on the other hand, was smiling. A shy smile, her eyes looked away from the camera.

_She kept it_, was all Sherlock was thinking.

Sherlock put the locket away. He was going to put it in a safe, where the two children could be together forever.

**End Note: I like this chapter. I'm good at writing about depressing things. Thanks for reading. If you like this, I hope you read whatever else I post. Prepare for Doctor Who!**


End file.
